Sunday, August 24, 2008

Nearly Departed

A poor narcoleptic named Fred
was taken by strangers for dead
When Fred came around
six feet under ground
he asked, "Was it something I said?"
Posted by at
Labels:

3 comments:

Norm Knott said...

"I'll sleep when I'm dead!" cried poor Fred
From deep in his mildew-proof bed
"No worms will there be
To keep company,
For long nights that might lie ahead."

August 24, 2008 at 2:48 PM
surlyh said...

To sleep, wrote the bard, perchance dream
But wake in a grave and you'll scream
To snooze or not tooze,
his Hamlet must choose
But Fred doesn't care for rhyme scheme

August 25, 2008 at 12:18 PM
surlyh said...

They say that the bad will sleep well
On nightmares their minds never dwell
I'll bet Bush, each night
sleeps ever so tight
though I'd prefer George rest in hell

August 25, 2008 at 12:27 PM

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)